Decompose

Decompose Has Moved!

2006-11-27T19:39:00.000-08:00

You can reach my new site HERE.

Song 'o the Season

2006-08-31T18:15:00.000-07:00

My iPod Nano has revo - lution - ized my music listening habits (thanks kids!). It gets me up close and personal, and I can take it to work, where my job affords me lots of listening time. As a result, I'm listening to all kindsa stuff -- old and new.

If life is measured in seasons, seasons are measured in songs. At various stages of our lives, songs drift in and out, nudging their way into our mental archives, joining other tunes in a mystical / emotional repository. (This is why I can rarely listen to Here I am to Worship, by Tim Hughes, without bawling.)

Anyway, I recently purchased The Flaming Lips' new album, At War With the Mystics. I've been wanting to give The Lips a listen and have so enjoyed the album that I bought an earlier one, The Soft Bulletin. The sound is quite novel -- orchestral, sixties psychedelia, a kind of poppy Pink Floyd. The lyrics are idiosyncratic, unconvential and anything but run-of-the-mill.

So the first song on their new album has been embedded in my brain for the last month. It's a quirky, breezy, hilarous, and utterly addictive diddy entitled, The Yeah Yeah Song. The first stanza goes like this:

If you could blow up the world with the flick of a switch
Would you do it?
If you could make everybody poor just so you could be rich
Would you do it?
If you could watch everybody work while you just lay on your back
Would you do it?
If you could take all the love without giving any back
Would you do it?

And so we cannot know ourselves or what we'd really do
With all your power...
What would you do?

You can listen to the song at the Lips' website, and I recommend you do. I'm not sure how this song fits with, Here I Am to Worship, but it's in my brainpan now. Perhaps this is my Yeah, Yeah season...

Author Intersection

2006-08-28T05:02:00.000-07:00

I'm a huge fan of G.K. Chesterton and am currently reading a fantastic book by him. The Man Who Was Thursday is arguably Chesterton's most popular novel. The book has been called a metaphysical thriller, but its brisk pace, lively dialogue and wry humor are rich with philosophical density. According to Wikipedia, the author

suffered from depression for much of his life, and claimed afterwards that he wrote this book as an unusual affirmation that goodness and right were at the heart of every aspect of the world. He had hoped the book would serve as an encouragement to himself and to other members of his family who also had the tendency to become melancholy.

As I'm given to (what Spurgeon called) "fainting fits" and bouts with melancholy, I can attest to a strange buoyancy I derive from Chesterton's work.

Anyway, I recently purchased a used, nicely aged, hardcover copy of the book and have become immersed. But while doing a little research on the novel, I was surprised to discover an intersection of authors.

Last year, I read Neil Gaiman's terrific short story, A Study in Emerald (which you can read in PDF here). The story went on to win the Hugo and, being it was my first encounter with Gaiman, sent me in search of his other stuff. And there's lots of it. I purchased some of the The Sandman comic series and then American Gods. The novel explores the clash between gods of the old and the “new gods of credit card and freeway, of Internet and telephone, of radio and hospital and television, gods of plastic and of beeper and of neon,” and how Americans have transferred their devotion from spiritual to material and technological gods.

Gaiman has written for film and theater, collaborated on children's books and graphic novels, and has become something of a cult superstar. But what surprised me most about him, was the "religious" influences in his early life.

I learned of it first while scanning Wikipedia's bio of Chesterton. As expected, the prolific English author has influenced many through the years. Chesterton's writings have been praised by such authors as Ernest Hemingway, Graham Greene, Evelyn Waugh, Gabriel García Márquez, Dorothy L. Sayers, Agatha Christie, W. H. Auden, Orson Welles and Franz Kafka. C. S. Lewis, T.S. Eliot and Ingmar Bergman also drew inspiration from him. There is even a computer game, Deus Ex, which features excerpts from The Man Who Was Thursday and the British heavy metal band Iron Maiden uses an excerpt from one of his hymns as the first verse in their song Revelations. Chesterton? Iron Maiden? Go figger.

Enter Gaiman. According to the cyber-pedia:

The author Neil Gaiman has stated that The Napoleon of Notting Hill (an early Chesterton novel) was an important influence on his own book Neverwhere. Gaiman also based the character Gilbert, from the comic book The Sandman, on Chesterton. Gaiman's novel Good Omens, co-authored with Terry Pratchett is dedicated "to the memory of G.K. Chesterton: A man who knew what was going on."

As a child and a teenager, Gaiman grew up reading the works of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien along with Chesterton.

Although Gaiman is Jewish, he attended several Church of England schools. There he studied, among other things, religion. The training gave him a wide background in both Jewish and Christian theology/apocrypha, which he apparently incorporates into his works.

I find these author intersections fascinating and, learning of the Chesterton/Gaiman connection, has only piqued my interest. Perhaps the most obvious question is, How did these early Christian influences shape Gaiman's thinking? It does not appear Neil Gaiman has a unique interest in Christianity (other than the imagery it affords his writing). In fact, it's been reported Gaiman is the son of a prominent leader of the Church of Scientology. While I'm unaware of Gaiman's stated allegiance to Scientology, his proximity to so many differnet religions could explain a lot about his multi-faceted views. It is heartening, I guess, that he and G.K. have crossed paths. But if, as Gaiman suggests, Chesterton was "A man who knew what was going on," I wonder where that places Gaiman.

How Shall We Then Kill? #3

2006-08-24T08:55:00.000-07:00

Possibly the thing that surprised me most about the Wayne Adam Ford case was that, despite his surrender and admission of guilt, the jury still recommended death. I’ve always assumed that contrition matters for something. But serial killers may be another story.

The Crime Library described Ford as "the remorseful serial killer," and said this about his apparent penitance:

Carlton Smith suggested in his book Shadows of Evil, the chances of a serial killer turning himself in and showing remorse for his victims is extraordinarily small. In fact, San Francisco State University Criminologist Mike Rustigan stated in an Associated Press article that Wayne's confessions were "truly an exception in the annals of serial killers." Wayne's apparent shame for his brutal crimes earned him the nickname the "serial killer with a conscience."

Serial killer with a conscience? That seems like an oxymoron.

Nevertheless, the Bible gives us several examples of murderous men who repented. In fact, three of the greatest Bible figures were killers or accomplices. Moses killed an Egyptian and fled to the wilderness and David successfully plotted the murder of Bathsheba's husband. Furthermore, before his conversion, the apostle Paul systematically hunted Christians. But in spite of their acts and various degrees of hardened hearts, God churned inside these men.

While it can be argued that serial killing is different than first degree murder, it cannot be argued that first degree murder shouldn't be equally punishable by death. (Under the laws of some states, Kind David would certainly be recommended for execution.) Either way, none of these "killers" were too far for God to apprehend.

While the Bible suggests there is a state where repentance is impossible (Heb. 6:4-6) and where the heart is terminally hard, the parameters of that condition are anything but clear. A show of conscience can be one of the most important evidences for a redemptive hope. But discerning that evidence is not always easy.

Especially when the individual in question has left a trail of death behind them.

One of the reasons I remain conflicted about capital punishment is our inability to know exactly what's going on inside the heart. Was Mr. Ford genuinely sorry, or just sorry he got caught? Furthermore, should any apparent remorse have bearing upon his sentencing? The record seems to imply Ford was tormented about his crime; he summoned his brother to confess, and eventually turned himself in to the police. To me, this type of inner turmoil points to a conscience that is not yet dead. Either way, judging between a penitent soul and a reprobate mind is too hard a task, one that none of us can ever make with 100% accuracy -- it is something best left to God.

There is, in all this, a clear distinction between the role of government and the role of the Church. One of the commentators in the previous post wrote this:

As Christians, we are called to forgive. We are called to witness. We are called to love the unlovable.

But the government is ordained to stand in the place of God Himself when it comes to punishing the wicked, not as God the Loving, but as God the Avenger. Romans 13 makes it completely clear what the government's role is to be (one could even argue that it's the only true role given by God TO the government in Scripture).

Can I attempt to love and forgive the person who murders someone I know and love? As an imitator of Christ, it is absolutely required of me to do so! But at the same time, my government is required by God to punish that person. And "the sword" does not mean therapy.

This is a terrific point, but exactly how does Christian mercy -- the Church's call to "forgive" and "love the unlovable" -- and "the sword" interface? Can they?

The death penalty can easily be established under Old Testament law. The New Testament is another story. Apart from Romans 13, I'm unaware of any verses that compel Christians to endorse the death penalty. In fact, according to Christ, the law was fulfilled in Him, supplanted by a higher set of principles. We no longer stone adulterers and witches; we pray for those who use us and turn the other cheek. Of course, this does not mean we are flippant with forgiveness and socially reckless, but that love and grace and mercy tempers our judgements.

And that's what I'm wrestling with. How do we uphold the call to judge right and still render mercy? How can I pull the switch on someone else, when I deserve to be executed a hundred times over?

If we live by "an eye for an eye," the whole world will eventually go blind.

There is a God who will avenge the weak, balance the scales and lay bare the secrets of men's hearts. I am not Him. He knows what Wayne Adam Ford deserves. I don't. I do know that God offered His Son to be executed for sinners like me. He turns at the slightest hint of remorse, as the filthy Prodigal stumbles home broken and spent, and meets the wayward soul with grace. And He calls me to do the same...

How Shall We Then Kill? #2

2006-08-21T07:33:00.000-07:00

More people would be alive today if there were a death penalty, or so it's said. No doubt, capital punishment can be a deterrent to crime. But as French existentialist Albert Camus noted,

For centuries the death penalty, often accompanied by barbarous refinements, has been trying to hold crime in check; yet crime persists. Why? Because the instincts that are warring in man are not, as the law claims, constant forces in a state of equilibrium.

The law does not address and cannot balance man's "warring instincts." So while executing murderers may rid society of the truly twisted, it does not "untwist" future societies.

It is partly this internal war in man, or his state in general, that causes me confliction regarding the death penalty.

In the previous post I used the Wayne Adam Ford verdict as a springboard to consider the subject. My final two points touch upon this interior dissonance.

Part of the defense strategy in the Ford case was to highlight the killer's troubled upbringing. This is a typical tactic nowadays, but its effectiveness is debatable and, in many cases, problematic. Most people have had a less than ideal upbringing. Whether it's abuse or abandonment, rage or frigidity, legalism or license, none of us were raised in a perfect home. What's more, we manage to refrain from going psycho. Because of this, I often wonder if the "troubled childhood" invocation elicits skepticism and annoyance rather than empathy.

Nevertheless, I am one of those bleeding hearts that believes a difficult, dysfunctional upbringing can cripple us -- emotionally, spiritually, socially, sexually -- for life. We are damaged goods. And while the roots of evil run deep, the awful fruit takes on a myriad of forms.

I pastored a church for eleven years. No amount of education or training could have prepared me for the depths of brokenness I would encounter in others (and eventually, myself). If you preach to pain, it's said, you'll always have an audience. The truth is our churches are full of dysfunctional, hurting people, some of whom are a tick away from criminal or psychotic behavior. This is representative of our society in general.

I was raised in an alcoholic home. My father was often AWOL and when he was there, he was cold, critical, angry and violent. I was eventually kicked out of the house when I turned eighteen. It took me years to unravel the depths of insecurity and hurt that saddled me and tainted my personality.

Near the end of his life -- the last ten years of which he spent sober and repentant -- my Dad told me about the abuse he underwent as a kid, something he'd refrained from for fifty-plus years. His real father abandoned the family when my Dad was five or six. Enter the stepfather, a cruel man who beat his stepson and left him, for the most part, orphaned. I spoke to a relative once who told the story of the day she found my Dad locked in a closet, squatting in feces, naked and bruised.

Is it any wonder my Dad became a violent alcoholic? But is his awful upbringing any excuse?

You can call this a sob story...but it's my sob story; it's left me intimately scarred and, ultimately, grateful. I cannot excuse my Dad's treatment of his family. But neither can I blow off the damage inflicted upon that lost, little boy.

And somewhere in this there is a balance.

There's no question but that my own history and upbringing informs (perhaps taints is a better word) my perspective. While we can never excuse criminal behavior on the basis of a difficult upbringing, I believe we cannot dismiss or devalue the psychological damage, pain, loss, regret, isolation and utter helplessness that torment some people.

Jesus seemed to address this impressionable, tender pliability in children and spoke some of His harshest words against those who mishandled them:

And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me. But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.

Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to sin! Such things must come, but woe to the man through whom they come! (Matt. 18:5-7 NIV)

In this verse, the millstone is not reserved for the one who sins, but for the one who "causes one of these little ones" to sin. Notice, it's not the sin but the forces or people which propel someone toward sin that Jesus addresses. Somewhere along the way, Wayne Adam Ford was an innocent child, one of these "little ones". What changed him? What "caused" him to sin? Does it matter? Christ appears to suggest it does.

My father's alcoholism tore our family apart. His actions shaped my life, crippled my emotions, reverberate inside me to this day. In many ways, he has caused me to sin. But somewhere behind that facade, underneath his rage, was a "little one" whimpering alone in a dark closet.

People aren't born to be alcoholics, thieves and serial killers. There are processes that get them there. While the law may address the crime it cannot address these processes, these "warring instincts," these spiritual, psychological and sociological forces that make monsters out of men. And without accurate discernment of the forces and compassion for those in their grip, capital punishment should be the last resort.

Continued...

How Shall We Then Kill? #1

2006-08-15T19:20:00.000-07:00

These kinds of stories always leave me con- flicted. Last Thurs- day, after two weeks of deliberations, a jury said serial killer Wayne Adam Ford deserved to die for the brutal murders of four women. In November 1998, after the persuasion of his brother Rodney, Ford turned himself into the Humboldt County sheriff's station. At the time, he had a severed breast in a plastic bag in his jacket pocket.

Ford admitted the crimes but, as is typical in such cases, his defense included a claim of mental disorder and asked the jury to take into consideration the defendant’s rough childhood and difficult life. According to the Riverside Press Enterprise:

Ford reportedly had rough sex with the victims, often binding them and using sexual asphyxiation. If the women stopped breathing, Ford told authorities he would revive them using CPR.

But Ford stopped short in his statement to police, and claimed he couldn't remember exactly how the victims died.

Apparently, his claim to amnesia was a big issue with the jury as they felt other evidence pointed to the killer’s full cognition. This, and other things, compelled the panel to prescribe death.

There’s several reasons why stories like this, and this story in particular, leave me conflicted. In Christian circles, there are certain positions that carry a type of stigma. The three I will express here could easily assign me to the liberal, namby-pamby wing of Christendom. But here goes…

First, I am unresolved about the death penalty.

Let me qualify this by saying I believe the Bible permits -- even endorses -- the death penalty. If life is infinitely precious and every action has a consequence, then it makes sense that the willful, unjust taking of another human life should invoke the highest form of punishment. The entire redemptive process is built on this principle. This is what makes Christ’s crucifixion so significant: He bore the penalty for crimes He did not commit, took our death sentence unto Himself. The Father executed His own Son, a terrible, glorious mystery we shall fathom forever.

Furthermore, the apostle Paul said this about government authority:

For he is God’s minister to you for good. But if you do evil, be afraid; for he does not bear the sword in vain; for he is God’s minister, an avenger to execute wrath on him who practices evil. (Rom. 13:4 NKJV)

While Christ extends freedom from the ultimate penalty of sin, He does not however disregard or exempt us from the social and legal consequences of our actions. Executing justice often means executing criminals – even saved ones. Such was the dilemma faced by the state of Texas concerning Karla Faye Tucker. One official put it this way: "According to the law of God, Ms. Tucker is forgiven. But according to the law of Texas, Karla Faye Tucker must die.” After a series of appeals, the repentant killer was eventually executed.

If there's so much biblical support for the death penalty, and if it is morally justifiable, why am I still conflicted?

This could sound extremely soft, but I’m gonna say it: When it comes to human life we should always err on the side of grace, hope and love. All our judgments are temporary, interim and flawed. We cannot know the intricacies of the human heart, nor the path one’s life could have or will take. None of our judgments are ever perfect. Furthermore, I take comfort in the fact that no one will escape God’s judgment. Whatever the charges, whatever the laws of the land, whatever our background, state of mind, extenuating circumstances, or the final verdict, whether I am pro-capital punishment or not – Wayne Adam Ford will face the Judge. He cannot plea bargain or pre-empt that Day; it will supersede all other rulings. As a society, we must address his actions. But nothing we do can alter the fact that a Great Judgment is coming. Whether Ford lives and dies in prison or is launched into eternity by lethal injection, he will face God.

So why not simply lock him up for life, let God and time work on him, and await his death? What principle is being violated if we choose life in prison over capital punishment?

Some would say this position fails to take into account the pain and suffering the murderer has inflicted upon his victim and their family. And no doubt it could. But I would argue that the execution of the killer will never rectify the horror, satiate the pain, or undo the suffering. In fact, killing the murderer may even crystallize the victim's anguish, embed them in state of perpetual anger and unforgiveness.

Even on the cross, Jesus forgave His murderers. He didn’t curse or rail or demand justice; He resigned Himself to the Father. I’d suggest this is the spirit we must cultivate. We must never wink at evil or whitewash the horror of someone’s actions. But likewise, we cannot live in a spirit of revenge and retribution. The "eye for an eye" dispensation was fulfilled at the cross. Yes, what Wayne Adam Ford did was evil, animilistic, and deserves punishment. But what we do with Wayne Adam Ford is another issue.

Continued...

What's the Meaning of This?

2006-08-13T13:55:00.000-07:00

For some reason this post is the most linked to article on my blogsite. Usually about seven or eight times a week someone is directed here based on word searches for this subject. I have no idea why.

Hitting a Sour Note

2006-08-10T20:21:00.000-07:00

The same day another terror plot was uncovered, this one potentially involving liquid explosives and up to 12 UK to U.S. bound planes, I happened to hear a song from Neil Young's new album, Living With War.

Young has turned his talent into a tirade against the Bush administration and what the musician perceives as an erosion of civil liberties. With titles like, Shock and Awe, Flags of Freedom and Looking for a Leader , he draws the party line. But maybe the most blatant of the political songs is, Let's Impeach the President.

Let's impeach the President for lyin'
And misleading our country into war
Abusing all the power that we gave him
And shipping all our money out the door

Who's the man who hired all the criminals?
The White House shadows who hide behind closed doors
They bend the facts to fit with their new story
Of why we had to send our men to war

Let's impeach the President for spyin'
On citizens inside their own homes
Breaking every law in the country
Tapping our computers and telephones

What if Al-Qaeda blew up the levees
Would New Orleans have been safer that way
Sheltered by our goverment's protection
Or was someone just not home that day?

Let's impeach the President for hijacking
Our religion and using it to get elected
Dividing our country into colors
And still leaving black people neglected

Thank God he's cracking down on steroids
Since he sold his baseball team
There's lots of people looking at big trouble
But of course our President is clean

Man, what's with the sour note? Somewhere along the way I think he replaced his heart of gold with a left hook. So adamant is the Godfather of Grunge, that he's even rejoined Crosby, Stills and Nash (a rare event, indeed!) for the Freedom of Speech Tour.

Hey, I don't care if musicians or artists use their platform for political purposes. No one's forcing me to buy their stuff. But with the world in its current state, I'm baffled at the one-sided critique. It is beyond me how someone could be so vocal about freedom and human rights, and so silent when Americans are beheaded, buses, trains and nightclubs are bombed, suicide bombers kill and mutilate innocent civilians, women are oppressed, abused and mutilated, and jihad is waged against the West -- all in the name of one of the great world religions, a professed religion of peace.

And all Neil can say is "Let's impeach the president." Hello? Is anyone home? Why is it that so many celebrities -- these self-appointed ambassadors of peace -- spend so little time and money condemning the atrocities executed by radical Islam? Please, I'm all ears.

I'm not particularly fond of President Bush, but to suggest that he's the big problem here is asinine. America is currently facing much bigger issues than who's in the White House... issues that have been brewing long before Mr. Bush or Young were even around. Our country's in the crosshairs of international terrorism while CSN & Y is creaking around stage spouting about freedom of speech. What's wrong with this picture?

And now another plot against America has been discovered.

Perhaps Neil Young should reflect on the words to his own song, Let's Roll, written shortly after September 11:

No one has the answer,
But one thing is true,
You've got to turn on evil,
When it's coming after you,
You've gota face it down,
And when it tries to hide,
You've gota go in after it,
And never be denied,
Time is runnin' out,
Let's roll.

"Turn on evil... face it down... go in after it..." That's it, Neil. Now you're in the right key.

Shoot the Messenger

2006-08-07T15:00:00.000-07:00

Last week over at The Master's Artist, Deborah Gyapong used the recent Mel Gibson flap to ponder The Character of the Artist. I really enjoy Deb's site and, once again, she made some terrific points. At issue, is the connection (or lack thereof) between character and craft.

In non-religious artistic circles it used to be almost expected that great writers would have serious drinking problems, numerous affairs and dissolute lives. Bohemian or unconventional lifestyles were the norm. In Christian circles, having a squeaky clean image seems to be one of the most important parts of the platform....

While I think it is important for Christians to lead Christian lives, I don't think I'm going to view The Passion of the Christ too much differently now that I know Mel Gibson rants anti-Jewish conspiracy theories when he's drunk. I want to see how a work of art stands on its own.

Separating character from craft, the artist from her art, is a necessary, but often difficult act to perform. Chesterton said, “Art is the signature of man.” As such, the line between the art and the man is indeed fine.

And it's this notion of "lines" that blurs the issue.

Some would suggest there are none. For the most part, art criticism is a subjective affair, an inexact science. Even more murky, however, is the definition and critique of character. While postmodernism broadens the pallete of art appreciation, it also erodes traditional standards to which artists (and people in general) were once held. As a result, we develop tolerance for -- even acceptance of -- the quirks and indiscretions of the creative community. Nowadays, good work eclipses good behavior. So what if the glitterati can't pass a piss test or keep their pants on. As long as they write good songs and make decent movies, we'll continue to wink at their misconduct.

This is partly due to the public's appreciation for the arts.

We lament the dearth of imagination and extol those who show the slightest spark. But inspiration is not without its price. It's part of the "tortured genius" mystique... or millstone. The artisan grapples for the perfect word, bleeds the ordinary in search of the sublime and gathers particles of pixie dust wherever it can be found. André Gide captured the essence of what many creative folk feel when he said, "Art is the collaboration between God and the artist, and the less the artist does the better." No wonder the inspired are so odd. Not only do they sense a Divine unction, they are forever trying to follow its lead or, at least, get out of its way. Sometimes it's more of a tug-o-war than a dance. Yet in some way, the public tolerates the missteps of the messenger because of the weight of her message.

Another reason for the disconnect is the fact that art more often, and more easily, transcends the artist than the artist does her work. God once spoke through a jackass and the speaking, though divine, did not transform the animal. Most artists are the equivalent of Balaam's mule, and their art is far more miraculous for their lowly nature. What surprises us more than that movies like The Passion of the Christ are made, is that jackasses like ourselves can make them. Maybe, in the case of art, a "bad tree" can produce "good fruit." If so -- and all great art emanates from God -- then we can never rise to it. Living up to our inspiration is a Sisyphean task , doomed to repeated failure. Still, the fact that He speaks through sinners is humbling. And the acknowledgement that all artist are indeed sinners is necessary to the appreciation of their art.

Perhaps this places Christians, and Christian artists, at a disadvantage. Not only are we judged by the laws of the medium, we are measured by the standards of the Book. If Mel Gibson had not made such a blatantly religious film, the inquest would be a lot less rabid. But by setting sail under the Christian banner he invoked other laws.

Art may transcend our character, but we can't. Moses led his people to the Promised Land, even gazed at it from afar, but was forbidden to enter. He climbed the mountain, spoke face to face with God, but in the end he came up short. He could not transcend his sin. Visions of paradise are no guarantee of entry. Good writing may get me published, but good character can help me sleep at night. In the end, it's what's chiseled on the heart, not hanging in the museum, that matters. Deborah summed it up this way:

I personally would not want to sacrifice my character on the altar of art. Leading a holy life is more important to me than leaving a lasting work of art.

It needn't be one or the other, but were we pressed, we must choose integrity over aptitude, truth over talent, peace of mind over rave reviews. And, therein, lies the rub -- the divide. Perhaps there is a time to shoot the messenger -- to condemn immorality and shun the sinning soul. But once we start pulling the trigger, it's only a matter of time before we find ourselves in the crosshairs.

Against Manichaeism

2006-08-04T22:50:00.000-07:00

There is a belief prevalent among many religious folk that "things" are evil, that the world and the flesh are devilish, that our appetites wage war against our spirit and must be extinguished. These convictions find root in Manichaeism and, in due season, can blossom into asceticism -- either that or a major guilt trip. In rare cases, rigid forms of abstinence, isolation and even physical suffering is endured to reach some form of nirvana or achieve spiritual purity.

Having passed through stages of both sensual overload and self-inflicted martyrdom, I found G.K. Chesterton's summation succinct:

That "God looked on all things and saw that they were good" contains a subtlety which the popular pessimist cannot follow, or is too busy to notice. It is the thesis that there are no bad things, but only bad uses of things. If you will, there are no bad things but only bad thoughts; and especially bad intentions... [I]t is possible to have bad intentions about good things; and good things, like the world and the flesh have been twisted by a bad intention called the devil. But he cannot make things bad; they remain as on the first day of creation. The work of heaven alone was material; the making of a material world. The work of hell is entirely spiritual.

The quote's lifted from, "The Dumb Ox," Chesterton's bio of Saint Thomas Aquinas. Along the way, the author details more modern manifestations of the dreaded doctrine, taking aim at Calvinism:

The old Manicheans taught that Satan originated the whole work of creation commonly attributed to God. The new Calvinists taught that God originates the whole work of damnation commonly attributed to Satan. One looked back to the first day when a devil acted like a god, the other looked forward to a last day when a god acted like a devil. But both had the idea that the creator of the earth was primarily the creator of the evil, whether we call him a devil or a god.

That the ancient doctrine has many incarnations is beyond dispute. But associating Calvinism with the pagan worldview is a bit startling. Nevertheless, Chesterton's wit and lucid logic never cease to amaze me. But a guy who wears a monocle, sports an overgrown mustache and dons frumpy attire had better be smart.

I am C+

2006-08-03T19:39:00.000-07:00

Back in high school, a C+ would've been swell. But when that grade comes from a literary agent, and it's regarding my first novel, that's different. Actually, it was only three sample chapters, but it still leaves a mark.

Lisa called me at work, tore open the letter and read,

While your project exhibits merit it does not quite meet or exceed the standards we are looking for at this time. If we were to grade your manuscript it would receive a C+. This is a fair grade but means that the ultimate execution of the story is not quite good enough to break in for a first time novelist.

In case anyone's keeping tabs (are you reading this, Ma?), I've scattered about a dozen agent queries. I believe the Lord's had His hand in this, and I wrote about it here. One agent -- someone new to CBA fiction -- has since offered me a contract. I wasn't much at peace, however; when a bigger name agent requested my entire manuscript (which they still have, going on eight weeks). During that time I've had another agent request the first several chapters. So here I am working on my second book, attempting to grow in the craft, and trying not to hold my breath for an enthusiastic agent to hurdle the hedges with a contract and pen in hand.

And then I get a C+.

Realistically, it's my first rejection letter with some bite. The tone was upbeat (after all, my "project exhibits merit"), and the individual pointed out several elements I shall definitely noodle over. It's got me second-guessing a bit, though. How can three agents look at the same chapters, one offer me a contract, one request the whole book and one pronounce it barely average?

Hey, I'm in this for the long haul, so I expect to see my share of unfavorable grades. Along the way, I'll continue to strive to improve, remain teachable and pretend to be professional. One day, I might even be published.

But until then I am C+.

Are We All God's Children?

2006-07-31T10:19:00.000-07:00

Here comes a Baptist, here comes a Jew
There goes a Mormon and a Muslim too
I see a Buddist and a Hindu
I see a Catholic and I see you

We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family

From Alan Jackson's, We're All God's Children

How often have you heard the stat- ement, We're all God's children? Probably a lot. Heck, you may have, on occasion, even said it yourself. The statement, though often innocent, is fallacious and biblically unsupportable.

While Scripture declares all people are God’s creation (Col. 1:16), fused with His image (Gen. 1:26), and madly loved (Jn. 3:16), it designates only those who are "born again" (Jn. 3:3) as children of God.

But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name (Jn. 1:12 NKJV)

If a person is given the right to become a child of God, they must not be one. And the right must be exceedingly precious.

The Bible is narrow in this regard. Apart from racial and cultural distinctions, it defines only two categories of people: saved and unsaved, lost and found. The differential between the two may not always be clear (see the Parable of the Tares and the Wheat, Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43), but Scripture is clear about a divide. The lost -- those who have not "received" or "believed" (Jn. 1:12) -- are never called children of God.

And you He made alive, who were dead in trespasses and sins, in which you once walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the sons of disobedience, among whom also we all once conducted ourselves in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, just as the others. (Eph. 2:1-4 NKJV)

Notice, before they were "made alive" they were "dead in traspasses and sins," considered "sons of disobedience" and "by nature children of wrath." Romans 9:8 is equally blunt: “those who are the children of the flesh, these are not the children of God.” And then Jesus told the Pharisees, "You are of your father the devil" (Jn. 8:44), without blinking.

The apostle John references two unique breeds, species or tribes:

This is how we know who the children of God are and who the children of the devil are: Anyone who does not do what is right is not a child of God; nor is anyone who does not love his brother (I Jn. 1:10 NIV).

Between "children of God" and "children of the devil," there is only silence. Perhaps this is why Scripture offers so few choices -- it's either God or Satan, life or death, blessing or curse, light or darkness, truth or lies, the broad or narrow road. Furthermore, the fact that there are only two final destinations -- Heaven and Hell -- is indicative of only two types of residents.

Alan Jackson may be a fine performer, but he is not a theologian. Like it or not, there is a place called hell and unless we turn from our hellish natures, we will reside there forever. Yes, that's narrow and hard. But it's also biblical. As with many such contentions, the arguement is with Scripture, not Christians.

Peter Kreeft puts it this way:

If there is no hell, a religious indifference follows. If faith in Christ as Savior is not necessary, we should recall all the missionaries and apologize for all the martyrs. What a waste of passion and energy and time and life! If there is no such thing as fire, fire departments are a distraction and waste... The exact same authority which is our only authority for believing God is love also assures us that there is a hell. Either we accept both on the same ground or reject both on the same ground, for they stand on the same ground. (Kreeft, Handbook of Christian Apologetics, pgs. 284-285)

So are we all God's children? Well it depends on how the question's asked. If it means, Are we all uniquely created and loved by God? the answer is yes. But if it means, Are we all going to heaven? the answer is unequivocally no.

Mahi

2006-07-29T05:45:00.000-07:00

The deckhands yell, "Dodo!" It's short for Dorado, which is also called Mahi Mahi. It's one of the premiere sportsfish and with the water warming, we were hoping we'd hit some. And last week, we did.

It was a two day trip out of San Diego into Mexican waters. When we pulled into dock late Saturday night, I'm not sure who smelled worse -- me or the fish? We didn't land a lot, but between the Dodos and the Yellowtail, we did all right. At least, Lisa approved (of course, that was after she had a grilled Mahi steak). I'm not sure what was better, taking a shower when I got home or being called The Old Man and the Sea.

Lesson from a Fractured Fairy Tale

2006-07-26T05:29:00.000-07:00

I really wanted to like M. Night Shyamalan's new movie, Lady in the Water. Monday afternoon Lisa suggested, last-minute-like, we catch a flick. Getting me to the show is a chore, not because I don't like movies, but because I believe so few of them are worth the money. I knew Shyamalan's film was out there; I also knew it was getting panned by critics. Anyway, we went and I was disappointed.

However, I gleaned something very important from the movie...something I'm sure the director did not intend for gleaning.

Even though the underlying message behind Lady in the Water is extremely positive, Shyamalan is dangerously close to a rut. What worked in his first, best film, The Sixth Sense, is not just ho-hum, it's almost laughable. If it wasn't for Paul Giamatti's performance -- he was also terrific in Sideways and Cinderella Man -- the film would sink under its implausibility.

And, sad to say, that's what I took away from the movie.

I don't think I'm giving much away by the following info, besides the storyline is established in the first two minutes. It goes like this: Once, creatures of the land lived in harmony with creatures of the sea. But (as creatures of the land are wont to do), we wandered, became dense and generally irritable. Every so often, inhabitants of the Blue World return to knock some sense into their bipedal, clay-clinging counterparts. Enter Story, played by Bryce Dallas Howard, a river nymph or Narf who flops about in the community swimming pool, seeking to enlighten a certain soul.

At this stage, I'm already having a very hard time buying it.

But what really prevented a wholesale leap of logic, was the protag, Cleveland Heep, played by Giamatti. After discovering that a giant eagle will return for the Narf if it's not first killed by an organic canine called a Scrunt (no, I'm not kidding), and that the mean green wolverines are so hell-bent they will endure the wrath of the Tartutics, simian-like gatekeepers that nestle in the trees around the pool, Mr. Heep nods his head and says, "Okay, let's do this."

That's when I lost it.

In between, you have lines like this:

"A Scrunt would do anything to kill a Madam Narf -- even fight his fear of the Tartutic."

Try saying that with a straight face. Along the way, a cast of cardboard characters jump on board with nary a "Narf? Scrunt? Are you nuts?"

I write fiction. Asking your readers to suspend disbelief is a necessary element of storytelling. However even fairy stories have rules. Establishing these rules and laws, and living by them, is an essential part of advancing the plot...no matter how far-fetched it may be. People will buy into a giant ape named Kong climbing the Empire State building, so long as the law of gravity works. Even King Kong must go splat. Shyamalan violates this basic rule. At no point in this film did I get the sense that the characters were resistant to, or skeptical of, the fantastic assertions. When introducing things like Narfs and Scrunts and Tartutics, taking time to build a plausible springboard would seem essential. However, the players' unquestioned acceptance of the wild storyline left me unconvinced, stranded at square one.

I so wanted to like this movie -- and there were some sweet things about it -- but Shyamalan did not take time to make it palatable, plausible. He left me at the dock while his fairy boat sailed into la-la land; he erected a King Kong in zero gravity. In the case of Lady in the Water, a little incredulouty would have went a long way. Note to self: When writing about Narfs, Scrunts and giant eagles, assume skepticism.

INsites: Thinklings

2006-07-23T18:45:00.000-07:00

They are "The Seven Samurai of the Intellectual Universe." No, I'm not talking about Ms. White's dwarves. Dopey, Grumpy and Doc have nothing on The Thinklings. When it comes to group blogs, Thinklings is near the top of my totem. With probing posts like Is Being Mr. Rogers Bad?, What's Wrong with "Jesus Is My Boyfriend," and Open Letter to the Obese Guy at the Gym Who Never Wipes the Machines Down When He's Done Using Them, the Thinklings have carved an indelible niche into the world of religious blogdom. Whether dealing with contemporary worship or the color of Gatorade, these seven dwarves, er, Samurai, never fail to provoke thought and elicit laughter. Jared Wilson describes himself as a "theology geek, literature dork, and film nerd." He's an original Thinkling, a regular contributor to the site, and definitely not Dopey. JW recently distributed noogies to the pea-brained Decompose staffers. The following is a record of that one-sided drubbing.

* * *

MIKE: I hear you're a King's X fan. Have you ever seen them in concert, and what’s your favorite song by the Texas triumvarate?

JARED: I've seen King's X three, maybe four times. Never seen a bad show, although once they got into their later albums the song list was not as much to my liking. Fellow Thinkling Bird and I have seen them a few times together, and there's even a humorous recounting of an "incident" involving lead singer Doug Pinnick crowd surfing in the infamous Gatorade thread on the blog.

Favorite song of theirs is a classic and the quintessential King's X song -- "Over My Head."

MIKE: In your bio, you’re a “recovering student.” What exactly are your recovering from?

JARED: I am primarily referring to required reading that robbed me of several years of reading for pleasure and required courses I had no interest in. I'm a huge fan of academia and scholastic achievement; I'm not a fan of "school." If that makes sense. But I was blessed to have two English professors who saw me as a protege of sorts, who encouraged my thinking and writing (despite my unashamed conservative evangelicalism). I still keep in touch with those men and still consider them mentors.

MIKE: Your Thinkling role is as “The Writer and Critic.” What does that involve and what other roles do Thinklings occupy? Do you have any openings?

JARED: It doesn't involve anything other than we needed something unique for me to answer that particular survey question. At the time, my film reviews set me a part a bit, as well as my writing aspirations. I think I'm also the one guy most invested in literature and literary criticism. I think I'm seen as the "professional writer" of the group, although I have yet to become a professional anything.

The other Thinklings assume various roles, but one curiosity I have is over how particular folks' online presences don't seem to match my experience with them in real life. Just as a for instance: Back when I worked with Kenny and Shrode, I saw Kenny as a more vigorous debater with a powerful voice; to the extent that he posts, Kenny seems less like that now. He actually seems downright meek. Shrode was also known (not by me necessarily) in those days as sort of . . . how I shall put this? . . . "difficult to work with." I never found him that way myself, but we had a lot in common and were friends. Others saw him as sort of arrogant, I think. I think most of our readers would find that (mis)perception very surprising, as he's 100% NOT LIKE that in his online presence and is probably our most even-keeled poster. Shrode is definitely our site's designated pastor.

We have an opening for spam janitor, if anyone's interested. Also, we are interested in a P.I. to track down Asbell and any investigator with paranormal and/or cryptozoological experience to decipher the mystery that is Blo.

MIKE: Spam janitor? Does it involve hazardous waste? Anyway... Thinkling theology seems fairly diverse. Is it? What common beliefs bind the group together, and where do you differ?

JARED: I guess we're diverse depending on who you ask. The Boar's Head Tavern guys always deride us as being all Baptist, and that is actually true to some extent. Denominationally, the original seven Thinklings consist of three Southern Baptists, one Free-Will Baptist, one Church of Christ guy, one non-denominationalist of the Southern Baptist persuasion, and one non-denominationalist of the charismatic Southern Baptist persuasion. We have our theological and ecclesiological idiosyncrasies, but I think we're actually pretty similar. We're all evangelicals and generally conservative, theologically speaking. We do have an old-earther theistic evolutionist among our ranks, which I consider the most interesting "deviation." And even we insiders were surprised to discover one of us voted for Kerry (after months of hammering heavily on politics leading up to the election). We are generally continuationists when it comes to the charismatic gifts, even though we've only got one actual charismatic. We differ almost down the middle on the predestination debate. (Original and honorary Thinklings together, we also include four pastors, two associate ministers, and two worship leaders.)

Extending the profiles to so-called "honorary Thinklings" -- friends with posting privileges -- we throw in more Southern Baptists, a couple more non-denominationalists, and a PCA theonomist. Yeah, he's the surly one.

I don't think I really differ in any way ideologically that sets me apart. I'm probably the only guy a part of a congregation that would be considered a seeker church. I'm not too proud of that, though.

MIKE: Thinklings is incredibly popular. What do you attribute to the sites’ appeal?

JARED: I think it's a bizarre paradox of eclecticism (in personalities and topics) and idiosyncrasy. I think the wide swath of material we cover attracts folks, but then once readers hang around they begin to feel a part of the particular Thinklings camraderie. I can't say I understand it, but something about our friendship and the way we "hang out" together, inside jokes and all, resonates with some people.

To those who like us and what we do and decide to stick around, we are very protective of their inclusion. As easy-going as we have become (the early days of our online presence were dotted with fierce debates and blog-wars), we still take a very hard line on trolls and anyone or anything else that might detract from the community we hope to accomplish.

MIKE: I've always been leery of trolls myself. What kind of person are you targeting with Thinklings and what would you like your regular visitor to come away with?

JARED: I wouldn't say we're targeting anyone, except maybe people like us. That could be almost anybody, though.

We have quite a loyal Brit fanbase, which still intrigues me.

Depending upon the post, I suppose we'd like regular visitors to come away edified, educated, and entertained. If we even accomplish one of those things, I'd feel satisfied.

MIKE: Your group is patterned after Lewis’ Inklings in many ways. Besides the tobacco and ale, what most would you like to emulate about that group?

The friendship, the mutual appreciation. (Can I say the publication credits, too?)

MIKE: If C.S. Lewis were alive today, would he be reverenced as he is now?

JARED: I've been thinking on this question for most of a day, and I'm embarrassed to say I still don't know. The evangelical landscape is very different today, as are the places that landscape overlaps with the literary and academic worlds. I don't think that Lewis as he was then could be as reverenced in our culture. But the Lewis of his day is reverenced today, so obviously the influence he achieved then continues to resonate. But I don't think he could have risen to prominence in our day. I only say that because we have no real Lewis of our day in terms of widespread respect and influence.

MIKE: Thinklings often discuss the arts – film, music, literature. A common tension faced by Christians in the arts, has to do with artistic integrity versus getting the Gospel out. Where do you see that balance? Is the first objective of the Christian artist to get the message out or be true to the craft?

Well, I think that might be a false dichotomy. Getting the message out, depending on what sort of message you want out, does not have to be at the expense of the craft. And vice versa. I think if I had to choose, I would say the Christian artist should be true to his craft first and foremost. I say that thinking of a gifted, mature, thoughtful Christian artist, however. I'm thinking of someone for whom "the message" is not a gimmick or a propaganda piece or just a way of having the right label on his work. A capable Christian artist can almost create without consciously thinking of sticking the message in; as Dorothy Sayers says, his faith will out. (Or maybe it was me who said that in a blog post. Either way, some genius said Christian artists shouldn't have to propagandize to legitimize.

That's not to say they shouldn't create conscientiously in terms of spiritual content. But I think for a believer, being true to the craft necessarily entails a Gospel-influenced message, while one could easily create a Gospel message that is otherwise a bad work of art.)

MIKE: The Thinklings often address unfavorable trends in the Body of Christ. From your vantage point, what must contemporary Christianity most fear?

JARED: The idolatry of self-worship. I think that encompasses every other specific thing I could gripe about (consumerism, hedonism, worldliness, intellectual laziness, biblical illiteracy). Really, the thing we must most fear is what followers of Jesus most feared from the very beginning -- sin. In that sense, there is no real difference between the contemporary Christian and the first one. Only the avenues and opportunities have changed. The real difference, I think, is that back then, and up until relatively recently in the Church, they took sin seriously. American Christian culture doesn't seem to talk about it much at all.

MIKE: According to the sidebar list, the most popular Thinkling post has to do with the color of Gatorade. Why is that so popular?

JARED: You got me. That is the thread that will not die. It's about as old as the blog itself and we still get one or two comments a week on it. I think it's just one of those things that really gets people wanting to give their opinion. And then, depending on how their opinion matches up with the gender theory involved (men see Lemon-Lime Gatorade as green, while women see it as yellow), there might be some defending of oneself to do.

Early on, though, the post became less about the initial question and theory involved and more about the hilarious conversation-slash-debate in the comments thread. That's really been the key to The Thinklings' success over time -- vibrant and fun comment threads.

MIKE: What are your plans for the future of Thinklings? Anything your readers can look forward to?

JARED: Wow. This sort of question makes me wish we made plans. We're just going to keep posting and hope people continue to enjoy the site.

Looking forward, I can say that we've talked about doing another Thinklings Book Club series. The first one didn't go over so well in terms of participation, but there was a lot of interest, so we're thinking that if we pick a more accessible book, it could be fun. (We're thinking maybe N.T. Wright's "The Challenge of Jesus," since that book figured heavily in early, pre-blog Thinklings e-mail discussions.)
I'd also like to look into recording upcoming Ent-Moots (that's what we call our real-life get-togethers) and either providing them online as podcasts or even burning CDs to sell with all the money going to a charitable organization.
Somebody recently mentioned using CafePress or something to sell Thinklings branded merchandise. (Actually, maybe it was me who mentioned that. Or Dorothy Sayers. One of us, anyway.) But I think that's probably too egocentric. Even for us. In any event, readers can look forward to more of the same from us -- eclectic ruminations and general goofiness from a group of guys doing their best to keep up with Jesus.

* * *

Terrific stuff, Jared! I hereby propose we christen thee Senior Samurai. Really folks, if you haven't visited The Thinklings, put on your smoking robe and thinking cap and get on over there. (And for the record, that Gatorade is lime green.)

Absent Without Reading

2006-07-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

I’ve been blogging for a year and, among other things, the experience has inflamed a nagging question: Why do women read more than men?

Of course, there are many variables to the query. After all, men do read. Things like Maxim, the Wall Street Journal and Sports Illustrated are predominantly aimed at and consumed by males. So perhaps the question should be rephrased: Why do women read more fiction than men?

The assertion that women read more fiction than their gallant counterparts is probably beyond dispute. In the recent issue of Writer’s Digest (August 2006), in an article entitled “Do Men Read?” Maria Schneider puts it bluntly:

Conventional publishing industry wisdom has it that guys just don’t buy fiction. Men account for only 20 percent of novel sales...

And then, quoting Karen Holt, deputy editor of Publishers Weekly:

“The gap starts early, as girls in elementary and middle school read a lot more than boys, picking up a lifelong habit that most men never develop. Whether by cause or effect, most novels are published with women in mind.”

Proposed answers to this enigma range from bio- logical, to socio- logical, to emotive. In the afore- mentioned article, one author suggests that men do not read fiction because they don’t want to deal with “complicated, painful internal conflict” – and I must admit that the thought of reading most current fiction provokes those feelings in me. Some offer that “women tend to be shoppers” making even the casual female reader susceptible to a well-marketed book. (Does this explain all the pastel, flowery, cut-and-paste chick lit covers?) And there's other, more and less nuanced opinions.

Maybe we’ll never know the exact reasons, but for me it’s disheartening. Either I am metrosexual, a genetic anomaly, or most men are Neanderthals (a distinct possibility, aptly reinforced by my co-workers). Whatever the case, I’m in that 20 percent.

Blogging has affirmed this uncomfortable reality – and here I’m speaking entirely from my own experience. The circles I traffic in – mainly writers blogs – are anchored by women.

For instance, Penwrights (the critique group I’m involved with) is predominantly female. Currently there’s 4 men (3 of which rarely participate) and over a dozen women. This percentage seems to hold up across the board. For instance, I’ll be attending the ACFW conference in Dallas this September. A writer friend casually mentioned in conversation that, because there are so few men who attend these things, the ones who do get more attention (I must remember to bring extra cologne and breath mints). Furthermore, the Board of Directors for the ACFW, the largest association of Christian writers in the universe, consists of 6 women, and the Advisory Board, 6 women and 1 man (hey, 1 outta 13 ain't bad, even though it seems token). The Master’s Artist , one of my frequent cyber stops, is comprised of 8 women and 3 men. Charis Connection maintains a similar pace with 12 women and 5 men making up their contributors. A terrific new team blog, Speculative Faith, which includes some friends of Decompose, Mir and Becky, follows a similar differential at 6 to 1 (an interesting fact, considering that the site explores speculative fiction, a genre which was once considered akin to a men's only club).

But this discrepancy appears to apply primarily to writer’s blogs. Sites like Thinklings and Evangelical Outpost, which delve deeply into theology and culture, appear to lean towards a predominantly male readership. And perhaps that’s the divide. Men read -- they just don't read fiction.

Okay, so I'm thinking out loud. Maybe I'm wrong for even asking the question; I mean, I sure don't mind the company. But one of the reasons this bothers me is the nagging sense that men are always behind the eight ball, sloughing off their role of leadership, relinquishing higher callings to lesser passions. Perhaps this doesn't apply directly to reading, but I suspect it's in the mix. Until it can be proved otherwise, I'll continue to believe that most men are AWOR: Absent Without Reading.

Research 101

2006-07-18T20:50:00.000-07:00

So last week I met my son, Chris, at Cal State San Bernardino, the university he attends. There we met with Tim Usher. Mr. Usher is a physics professor, specializing in Ferroelectrics and Piezoelectric research (I'm copying this from the CSUSB brochure because I have no idea what the terms mean).

Why were we meeting a physics professor, you ask?

Well, it wasn't to discuss Ferro-lala-bingbang. I was doing research for my next book. Really. You see, Mr. Usher also traffics in quantum theory, a subject that, from the little I grasp of it, is fascinating. It so happens that the more I doodled with ideas for another story, the more quantum concepts kept intruding. Namely, the notion of parallel universes and alternate realities. Yeah, contemporary speculative fiction partakes freely from the worm cans opened by quantum theory. Now that there's a semi-plausible platform to explain things like doppelgangers and lands of Oz, there's no shortage of stories about them.

Unsure how to dress for research, I donned my nerd glasses, Mokulua flip-flops and grabbed a notepad. The professor graciously entertained my juvenile questions and laughed at my stupid jokes. He even asked for a copy of the book when it becomes available (which'll be, like, in the next parallel world, doc). Among the tidbits of info I acquired, the most comforting was the reassurance that very bright people have very messy desks.

Walking back through those hallowed halls, pen in pocket, head swirling with ideas, I felt like a genuine writer (a temporary feeling usually punctuated by rejection letters). Oh well, whatever happens, I was able to finally use that phrase: I'm doing research for my next book.

Confessions of a Jaded Negativist - #4

2006-07-17T07:15:00.000-07:00

The biggest problem facing the Christian cynic is reconciling the spirit of Scripture with their negative, pessimistic outlook. No doubt, there is plenty for us to rail about in this life. The Bible adds fuel to the cynic's fire by making numerous gloomy (albeit accurate) assertions about the world and those who live in it. In fact, many of these assertions are foundational to a Christian worldview. For instance:

Man is estranged from God, his impulses and moral faculties are warped, his nature is permanently corrupted.

Because of our sin and spiritual rebellion, the earth is cursed and each successive generation inherits the genetic drag.

We live in a state of cognitive dissonance, knowing God's law but compelled to forever break it.

Apart from God's saving grace, we will die in our sins and dwell in eternal torment.

The world system is intrinsically evil; civilization will get worse and worse, exceedingly violent and depraved, until God intervenes.

Hell is the destination for all those who reject God's grace; that road is wide and many walk it.

No wonder there are so many jaded negativists! The Bible confirms the fact that people are screwed up (this includes celebrities, diplomats, game show hosts and Dr. Phil), the world's going to hell in a handbasket, and if we don't pull our heads out of our rectal cavities, we'll find ourselves in the mix.

The Christian worldview is built upon a series of blunt, bald, unglamorous declarations about the state of things. Like it or not, there is reason to distrust others, be suspicious of anything popular, eschew all things rosy and buck utopian ideals. Armageddon is inevitable.

Thankfully, the Scripture doesn't stop there. If it did, we could rightly slink off into despondency or smug judgementalism. And herein lies the Christian cynic's dilemma: The same Book that charts Hell and the handbasket we're heading there in, proclaims hope to the captives, rest to the restless and cheer for the chronic pessimist.

To the dismay of cynics everywhere, the last book of the Bible sounds a note of eternal optimism.

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever. (Rev. 22:1-5 NIV)

Whereas Genesis opens with the Desecration of Earth, Revelation concludes with its Reclamation. For now, evil reigns. As do cynics. But a Day shall come when the tares are plucked from the field, the chaff torched and the Garden restored to its former beauty.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true." (Rev. 21:4-5 NIV)

And therein lies the rub. While Scripture permits us a critical, unbelieving eye as it pertains to the things of earth, it does not allow us to remain there. We are faced with an ultimatum: Either God wins or He doesn't; either the Son rises or the Night prevails; either the new comes or it's same old, same old.

And this is the crossroad -- the point of impact -- where every Christian cynic inevitably arrives.

At the heart of terminal cynicism is unbelief -- an unwillingness to take God at His Word, to trust Him to bring about what He has promised. Yes, I have reason to be skeptical, critical, derisive and suspicious. But I also have reason to rejoice, to have hope. When I padlocked the door to my church and hung up my robes, I had the option of wallowing. Did I get a raw deal? Possibly. Was the church to blame? In part. Did I have issues? You bet. But I couldn't open the Bible without verses like this tugging at the cancerous root:

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28 NKJV).

Call it wishful thinkful, Pollyanna, rose colored glasses -- whatever. Either it's true or it ain't. Either God can work all things together for good, or He can't. For all my regrets, my frustrations, my anger, and my disgust, I have come to believe it's true. God wins. Cynicism must ultimately yield. In the end, I'm still a jaded negativist. But, let's just say, I'm becoming more skeptical of myself.

Confessions of a Jaded Negativist - #3

2006-07-10T13:40:00.000-07:00

A collision was inevitable. On the the one hand, my propensity toward skepticism compounded by a bittersweet departure from the ministry, left me sensitized to every spiritual hiccup in the Body of Christ. And, as you know, there's no shortage of buffoons, charlatains, hypocrites and buzzards in the Church. What with a world gone haywire, I was having a cynical field day. The one monkey wrench -- the Bible is very clear about a believer's posture toward life, in particular, church life.

The uncomfortable fact is: It's difficult reconciling Christian virtue with jaded negativity.

The Book of Ecclesiatstes is the closest thing we have in Scripture to sanctified cynicism. It's considered part of the Poetical Books and grouped along with Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Song of Solomon and Lamentations. Ecclesiastes puts a notoriously dark spin on things. Perhaps the best example (and one every cynic should take wicked delight in) occurs early on in the book:

I saw the tears of the oppressed -- and they have no comforter; power was on the side of their oppressors -- and they have no comforter. And I declared that the dead, who already died, are happier than the living, who are still alive. But better than both is he who has not yet been, who has not seen the evil that is done under the sun. (Eccl. 4:1-3 NIV)

Yikes! That's some grim stuff. The dead are happier than the living? Better off that we'd never been born? Sheesh! This type of talk is liable to land someone in therapy. Either that or launch a career into goth music stardom.

The word "meaningless" occurs over thirty times in Ecclesiastes. In fact, the author cuts right to the chase in chapter 1:

'Meaningless! Meaningless!' says the Teacher. 'Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.' (vs. 2)

And he maintains this existential rant throughout the book, pummeling the reader:

Wisdom is meaningless -- 1:12-18

Pleasure is meaningless -- 2:1-11

Hard work is meaningless -- 2:17-26

Wealth is meaningless -- 5:8-6:12

Youth and vigor are meaningless -- 11:7-10

Pass the Prozac. The Teacher has surely lost his marbles. Nevertheless, this is God's Word!

So does Scripture validate, even endorse, jaded negativity?

A general rule of hermeneutics is context. Solomon is generally believed to have written Ecclesiastes. At one time, Solomon was considered the wisest man on earth, having amassed untold wealth, power and fame. Nevertheless, he took unto himself pagan wives, embraced their idolatries, surrendered to sensual pleasure and materialism and, in the end, succumbed to despair and disillusionment. According to Jewish tradition, Solomon wrote Song of Songs during his youth, Proverbs in his middle years and Ecclesiastes during the latter years of his life. The book, more than likely, chronicles the disenchantment and futility of his departure from God.

Another interesting note about Ecclesiastes is its summation:

Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgement, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil. (12:13-14)

So after twelve chapters lamenting the meaninglessness of life, Solomon returns to his roots -- to sanity. When all is said and done -- the injustice, foolishness, oppression, laughter, labor and death -- we should fear God and keep His commandments.

As much as I'd like to use Ecclesiastes to support some type of sanctified cynicism, I cannot. For one thing, it won't allow it. For another, there's verses like Philippians 4:8:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -- think about such things. (NIV)

Does this mean I can't think about crime and poverty and wolves in sheeps clothing? Does this mean I can't cry out when the righteous suffer, when the unborn are slaughtered and when the wealthy strongarm the weak? Does this mean my heart can't break for ministers who are being eaten alive by their churches? No. It just means I can't stay there.

Philippians 4:8 (and many like it) is a pebble in the sandal of the jaded negativist. For amidst all the cynical fodder, there is goodness and beauty and hope. On these we are called to think. And so, for those of us prone to pessimism, a collision is inevitable...

Confessions of a Jaded Negativist - #2

2006-07-06T05:19:00.000-07:00

Being cynical and being a cynic are two very different things. The former is an attitude or opinion, the latter is a condition. Of course, all cynics are cynical. But being cynical does not necessarily make one a cynic.

Because we live in a fallen world, populated by sinners and charlatains, a certain degree of cynicism, skepticism and distrust is healthy, even necessary. Scripture speaks often about discernment -- the ability to see below the surface, uncover agendas, perceive motives. In this sense, cynicism plays a part in discernment and is an important component in a wise, balanced life.

Of course, someone with a propensity toward melancholy (or paranoia, or pessimism), will laud this suggestion. (Cynics love having their naysaying, nitpicky observations confirmed. Public scandal, divorce, fraud and debauchery ensconce the resident cynic further in his smug appraisals.) Perhaps that's why, after I left the ministry, I plunged headlong into the role of full-blown cynic.

It came as a revelation of sorts. I'd been meeting with the associate pastor of a large local church. They were in the thousands and offered to bring me on staff to oversee small groups and train leaders. Yet the conversations with my pastor friend only confirmed growing suspicions about church life. Even in a large, established church, there were concerns about the pastor, questions about methodology and structure, grinding pockets of disunity and discontent, theological differences and listless support. To add to my burdgeoning disillusionment, several weeks later, that associate pastor tendered his resignation.

Maybe my departure from the ministry wasn't that unusual after all. Maybe there WAS a problem with the Church...and those who govern it.

As I mentioned in my intro, there's a difference between being cynical and being a cynic. Scripture seems to imply as much. Perhaps the closest Bible verse -- one that nails it remarkably well -- is Psalm One:

Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of the scornful. (Ps. 1:1 KJV)

The Bible often describes this "blessed" state, what it looks like and how to get there. This verse says we're blessed by not doing something -- specifically, three things. Blessed is the man that doesn't...

WALK in the counsel of the ungodly

STAND in the path of sinners

SIT in the seat of the scornful

The downward progression appears intentional. From walking, to standing to sitting. Bible.org provides a wonderful intro to the Psalms and exposition of these verses.

“Sit” is the Hebrew word y`sh~B meaning “to sit, dwell, remain, abide.” It emphasizes a thoroughly settled state or condition—settled down, comfortable, content with the world with its patterns entrenched in our lives...

“In the seat.” “Seat” is the Hebrew word mosh`B. It means: (a) a seat, a place of sitting, or (b) an assembly where many are gathered together to sit and make deals or have close associations. The point is, when you sit in someone’s seat, according to the idiom, you act like or become what they are. You are viewed as in a confederacy with them.

“Of scoffers.” “Scoffers” is the Hebrew word l’s. It means “to mock, deride, ridicule, scoff.” Grammatically, it is a participle of habitual action. It refers to one who is actively engaged in putting down the things of God and His Word. But please note that scoffing can occur by declaration of words or by declaration of a way of life that scorns the moral absolutes of Scripture and its way of life.

Scoffing and cynicism are cousins. The definition, “to mock, deride, ridicule, scoff,” could be interchangeable. However, the Psalmist is not describing an occasional opinion or attitude, but a manner of being, "a thoroughly settled state or condition."

In this sense, people are not born cynics -- they get there by process. The process is different for everyone. In many cases, temperament and predisposition are the springboard of cynicism. Those who naturally possess a sullen, introspective angle on life are, potentially, consumed much easier. Furthermore, our experiences tend to confirm and reinforce the lathering negativity.

Both these factors were at work in me. Not only do I tend to overthink everything and succumb to flights of melancholy, but my experiences in the ministry built a scaffold of bitterness, hostility and scorn.

I was no longer cynical; I had officially become a cynic.

Confessions of a Jaded Negativist - #1

2006-07-02T08:15:00.000-07:00

I left the ministry in August 1997. As you'd expect, it's a long story. No, I didn't get caught pilfering money, frolicking with the church secretary or faking miracles. But a number of forces converged that made my exit understandable, if not necessary.

I enjoyed teaching and had a distinct sense that God was with me when I took the pulpit. My spiritual gifts are in the "communication cluster," so much of my ministry naturally gravitated toward study and sermon-crafting. But nowadays, church is so much more. There's vision casting, budget making, crisis management, administration, counseling, leadership development, fund raising, community outreach, evangelism, etc. etc. On top of these demands was the hard reality of my station in life: I was an untrained minister, immature husband and father of four children. And as much as I hated to admit it, my wife and kids were getting lost in the mix.

Our church averaged about 120 members, nudging toward 200 several times. Still, in order to expand our staff, I was forced to reshuffle my role and take on side jobs to make ends meet. Facilities were constantly an issue. We rented from schools, churches and a community center. But the transience whittled away at the congregation's morale. Eventually, small pockets of dissension and disillusionment appeared, finding their way into our leadership team. At the time, Lisa and I began having serious issues with our oldest child, Melody. She was seventeen and started dating a boy we did not approve of -- a relationship which took her further away from God and us. Between the family, the church's ongoing struggles and years of accumulated fatigue, the collapse was inevitable.

When I laid down my frock, it was with a combination of relief and sadness. I'd pastored some wonderful, supportive people and shared deeply in their lives and families. Furthermore, I'd experienced what D. Martyn-Lloyd Jones, the prolific Welsh preacher, said in his book Preaching and Preachers -- there is no sense of elation and exaltation comparable to the feeling of taking the pulpit and opening the Bible knowing that you have a message from God for His people. I would miss that. But on the flip side, I would not miss the internal squabbling, the PR, the Christianese, the money changers' tables, the unrealistic demands and phoniness that can be church life.

The English used to quip that there were three genders: men, women and clergymen. That statement is defunct today, but the perception is alive and well. In my opinion, most church-goers, whether consciously or subconsciously, place pastors in another category, something other than homo sapien. We have a complete different set of standards and expectations for ministers. And to me, most of them are unfair.

This possibly explains why I have such a love/hate relationship with the Church. In fact, in the nine years since I left the ministry, I've found myself drifting dangerously close toward becoming this:

cyn·ic (n.)

1.) A person who believes all people are motivated by selfishness.

2.) A person whose outlook is scornfully and often habitually negative.

Webster defines "cynicism" this way: An attitude of scornful or jaded negativity, especially a general distrust of the integrity or professed motives of others.

Notice that phrase: jaded negativity. In a way, it captures what I am becoming: a jaded negativist. The revelation was shocking and the struggle to resist has been difficult. But what follows is my confession...

Pirates of Cthulu

2006-06-30T05:15:00.000-07:00

You already know that Pirates of the Caribbean is one of the most anticipated films of the summer. I wasn't that impressed with the first one and, despite the frenzy, have been only mildly interested in seeing Dead Man's Chest.

Until I saw the poster of this fella.

In the film, it's Davy Jones, captain of the Flying Dutchman. And from some of the sets and costumes, it appears he's really tricked out. Part pirate, part octopus, part lobster.

So I'm looking at this thing, tripping out, trying to figure out what it reminds me of. Then I got it! It's Cthulu -- one of "the old ones," a hideous creature in a pantheon of horrors created by H.P. Lovecraft. But that ain't all. He's also part Blackbeard, the most notorious pirate in history.

Cthulu's had many incarnations since its inception, inspiring dark societies, X Box games, anti-christian propoganda like Campus Crusade for Cthulu, toys and comic parody. But this is the first time I've seen a pirate of Cthulu. Oh well, I hope Disney knows what it's doing summoning the horror meister's star performer for its summer blockbuster.

INsites: T.L. Hines

2006-06-27T20:40:00.000-07:00

With his new novel, Waking Lazarus, poised in the chutes, I'm hoping Tony Hines will finally give up his day job as Spaghetti Cutter for Chef Boy-ar-Dee. When he's not meandering through Montana cemeteries, he's comandeering the juggernaut that is TLHines.com. Recently, the near-feral staff of Decompose gang-tackled Tony and threatened to paint his toenails Radiation Red if he didn't answer a few questions. What follows is the lurid unfolding.

* * *
MIKE: No doubt your interview on Decompose is a career highlight. Exactly how high on your list does this rank?

TONY: Easily makes the top five. Probably somewhere between discovering the secret of cold fusion and winning three air guitar contests.

MIKE: Cold fusion I believe. But three air guitar contests? How did your website, TLHines.com, come about? What was your initial vision for the site and how has it changed?

TONY: The original vision for the site, really, was just to amuse myself. I posted some work on there, a few rants and raves, and got into blogging in 2003. Did a blog series in 2004, in which I interviewed a series of long-shot presidential candidates called "The Dark Horse Dialogues." Why did I do this? Again, a vanity thing--the only thing I really ever envisioned getting out of the site, realistically, was a chuckle or two.

Oddly enough, the site ended up playing a key role in getting me a publishing deal after an acquisitions editor downloaded a sample chapter. So the vision changed after that, obviously. Once that happened, I knew the site had to become a marketing tool.

That's when the site really became two sites: one, the main tlhines.com site, has a lot of background information, press information, Q&A sheets, and my main blog. It's the nuts-and-bolts side. The other site, which I call The Other Side (for reasons people will understand when they read WAKING LAZARUS), became a more immersive kind of site--something that gave people a chance to participate in this strange, wonderful sensation of being a first-time novelist. It gives people a lot of "inside" information, such as my whole marketing plan, a companion e-book with commentary and deleted scenes, a photo tour of the book's locations, and a chance to win some unique prizes: a share of my first royalty statement, an iPod Nano, or a role in my next novel.

MIKE: What kind of person are you targeting with your website, Tony, and what would you like the average reader to come away with?

TONY: That's part of the reason for having two sites. The main site is aimed mostly at press/media, bloggers, and casual readers who might read my book and wander to my site once or twice. I try to give it a bit of personality, but it's mostly informational--the basic who, what, where, when, why stuff.

The Other Side, however, is aimed at the kind of people who really enjoy the book and want to tell others about it, and writers who want to share/explore ideas of their own. These are the people who want to light a fire, and I want to give them a bit of kindling.

MIKE: What are those strange typewriter-like symbols that appear at the top of your page when the cursor hovers over a category? Are they part of some sinister end-time code?

TONY: Oddly enough, those are symbols from the keys to an old manual typewriter.

They are also, as you've suggested, cryptograms sending encoded information to key operatives helping me establish a global one world government. I can't say a lot about this, obviously. But let's just say when Brian Boitano, former champion figure skater, rises to a position of global prominence, the end is nigh.

MIKE: Just as I thought -- a conspiracy in the making! Your Mighty List'o Links is pretty mighty (I stopped counting at a hundred). If you had to select five or six must-see web stops from that list, which ones would you recommend?

TONY: Well, naturally I would tell folks they must start by visiting Bethany House Publishers, the brilliant folks who acquired WAKING LAZARUS.

Among the writerly folk, Stephen King, F. Paul Wilson and James Lee Burke are faves. Aw heck, all the writers listed are faves. Brandilyn Collins runs one of the most informative writing-related blogs out there. In my "iPod Fodder" links, a few of my favorites include David Crowder Band, the Pixies and Wilco. And finally, under the "Bloggin' Fools," be sure to visit Teresa Nielsen Hayden's Making Light blog. Teresa is an editor with Tor/Forge, and always has a well-trafficked, informative and entertaining blog. I don't necessarily agree with her ideology, but I'd hate to only read people who agree with me.

MIKE: You seem like a real digit-head, er, I mean, you have a lot of e-savvy, often commenting on web trends and technologies. How important is "web awareness" and a "web presence" to authors nowadays? What advice would you give to a new author regarding websites and blogs?

TONY: I'm just a tech geek at heart. I enjoy web stuff, and trends, and technology, mainly because I like to tinker. And frankly, I'm fascinated by online culture and where it's going. It's the kind of thing authors such as Orwell and Heinlein were writing about in SF novels just four or five decades ago.

In my mind, every writer these days needs have a web presence of some kind. Even if you don't use it for true promotion, even if you have no interest in blogging, your web site is the single easiest avenue for helping your readers find you.

When I finish a book by an author I like, I hop on the web and visit the author's site. I doubt I'm the only one who does that.

So, my advice is: get a web site. If you don't have the money or knowledge to create and design your own, get a blog. If I only had one web presence these days, I'd create a page on myspace and start blogging/connecting with readers and writers there. It's getting phenomenal traffic and attention right now, and I don't see it fading much in the next year or so (although there are those who disagree with me). Long-term, who knows? Myspace may dry up and go away. But it's a great place to be right now. And don't let all the stories about predators on myspace scare you. The vast majority of people on myspace are non-creepy, and I'd hate to see nice, normal folks avoid it, simply leaving it to said creeps.

MIKE: According to your bio, you have a background in marketing. In what ways has that helped your writing career? Why is it that so many writers abhor the prospect of marketing themselves?

TONY: I've worked in marketing and advertising for 16 years, and owned an ad agency for eight of those years. (I merged my agency with a larger agency in 2003.) I've spent a lot of time thinking about the marketing side of writing for a couple of reasons. I love the marketing side because, as you point out, that's my background. But you know what? It's something I have to be careful about as I work on my new novels. It's easy for me to get online, blogging, chatting, emailing with other folks, and waste those few precious hours of morning writing time. I have to be disciplined to keep myself away from the marketing constantly.

I have a theory about why so many writers hate marketing, and it's this: Writing is a solitary pursuit that attracts naturally introverted people. Marketing is a community pursuit that attracts naturally extroverted people. Polar opposites. On top of that, by and large, I don't think writers feel comfortable talking about their own work. Sometimes it's too personal, sometimes it feels too much like "bragging." Writing and marketing go hand-in-hand, but most often, each requires a different kind of personality.

MIKE: I like the layout and feel of your blog; it's straight forward and easy to navigate. What are some of the more innovative web sites –- per layout and design -- you frequent?

TONY: This may sound blasphemous for a web geek, but I love sites that manage to build stickiness without the bells and whistles of flash animation or other gimmicks. That's why I love sites such as McSweeney's, the literary journal. C. Monks, a writer, always has hilarious things to say, and I just love the "phrenology" navigation of his site Utter Wonder. The Onion. Man, I LOVE the Onion--and not because of its design. Content is king.

MIKE: A common tension faced by Christians in the arts has to do with artistic integrity versus getting the Gospel out. Where do you see that balance? Is the first objective of the Christian artist to get the message out or be true to the craft?

TONY: This, frankly, is probably the most basic question for any Christian in the arts. And it's a raging debate.

However, I'll go on record saying that for any artistic endeavor--be it literature, canvas, music, film, or whatever--the art should always come first. And that's okay, because a Christian will naturally express something of God in her work.

I don't think art should ever, primarily, seek to "convert" an audience. Why? Because when it aims to do so, it's not art; it's evangelism. Evangelism is worthy and noble--it is what the Great Commission is all about, after all--but it's not art. And again, that's fine, because both serve worthy purposes. Evangelism brings hurting people to a God who loves them, and art is a personal expression--something that, for the Christian, expresses a bit about God.

MIKE: To help launch your new book, you've employed a unique online venture called the Other Side (inspired by the lead character in your book). There, people can sign up as Volunteer Book Publicists, agreeing to tell others about the book, convince their local libraries to carry it, and so on. You even send free business cards to Volunteer Publicists. How'd you come up with that idea and what kinds of response have you had?

TONY: I was inspired, in part, by Seth Godin's "Launching the Ideavirus," and in part by the open source software movement. I love the idea of communities, united by a common interest or goal, and I wanted to do all I could to develop one for my first book. So, I share a lot of "inside" information with folks who sign up as Volunteer Publicists at the Other Side--everything from the Marketing Plan to extra commentary and deleted scenes. In return, folks get a chance to share in the success of the book, since the top 100 publicists get a share of my first royalty statement. (There are other prizes, as well.)

I've been rather pleased with the response. Roughly 200 people have signed on as Volunteer Publicists--and this before the book's release. So, those people have signed on without actually reading the book for themselves, which is encouraging. Once the book actually releases and starts getting some readership, I expect membership to grow quickly.

But even if I don't get a huge volume, I do think I'm building a relationship with a core audience--a sizable "street team."

MIKE: What plans do you have for TLHines.com? Anything your readers can look forward to in the near future?

TONY: I just started podcasting, and plan to post a new podcast every Wednesday. I've been thinking about more video--maybe taping a reading or event--so I'm guessing I'll have something along those lines soon. As I hit the road for a few booksignings and such later in the year, I'd like to be able to webcast an event or two.

Above all, though, my ultimate goal is the same as it was when I launched my own web site: I want to have fun. If it's fun for me, chances are, it will be fun for a few other folks as well.

* * *
And that it is, T.L. That it is. So there you have it, kiddies. If you've not visited TLHines.com, skeedaddle over there immediately. There's no pics of him with Radiation Red toenails, but if you look closely, you'll find he bears a strange resemblance to the king.

Beached Reads

2006-06-26T06:18:00.000-07:00

It's pushing 100 degrees in my neck of the woods, which means it's Summer. And with the heat, come the annual beach reading lists. The Wichita Eagle recently interviewed Sarah Bagby to pick her brain regarding her selections for summer fare. Bagby, co-owner of Watermark Books & Cafe in Wichita, suggests there are several types of summertime readers:

There's the Guilty Pleasure type, who can't wait to pick up a romance, some chick-lit or a cheap, cheesy mystery and blame it on the heat.

There's the Big Book type, who considers summer -- and perhaps some quality vacation time -- a perfect chance to savor the 900-page biography they've been meaning to read.

And there's the Buzz Book type, who'll read just about anything if it seems like everybody's talking about it.

I'm probably more the Confused and Intimidated by Summer Reading Lists type. But whatever type of reader you are, you'll find plenty of seasonal suggestions.

Slate recently asked some well-known authors about their summer reading schedule, or Favorite Beach Books. When I think of "beach reading," I think of soft, mindless, breezy tales. You know, like half the stuff on the NY Times Bestseller List. But this year, the lists appear to be, shall we say, bulking up. Other than Joan Acocella actually recommending The Da Vinci Code, the Slate interviewees made some interesting selections. Like Michael Kinsley tackling Trollope, Thomas Mallon touting Kenneth Anger's cult classic Hollywood Babylon and Robert Ferrigno commending H.P. Lovecraft's horror classic, At the Mountains of Madness.

Overbooked adds to the eclectic list with titles like Timothy: Notes of an Abject Reptile, by Verlyn Publisher.

Exploring the natural history of a tortoise by adopting its own sensibility, Timothy is the story of a creature whose real life was observed by the 18th-century curate Gilbert White, author of The Natural history of Senborne.

and The Futurist by James P. Othmer, with this plotline:

From the hideously ugly Greenlander nymphomaniacal artist to the gay male model spy to the British corporate magnate with a taste for South Pacific virgin sacrifice rituals, The Futurist manages to be wildly entertaining and deadly serious at the same time.

Sounds, um, interesting. The Guardian offers The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes novels, edited by Leslie S Klinger, Henry James's The Turn of the Screw and Philip Roth's Everyman for "pre-death pleasure." Hmm. Nothing like a little pre-death pleasure.

The Arizona Daily Star compiles its Beach Reads into categories like Pure Escape, Travel, Education and Sports. At the top of their list: The Stolen Child by Keith Donohue. In a nutshell, it's about a changeling and the boy whose place he took in the world, which sounds right up my alley. Then it's Over the Edge: Death in Grand Canyon by Thomas M. Myers and Michael P. Ghiglieri. Described as "a comprehensive guide to slipping, sliding, falling, jumping, drowning, murdering, helicoptering and the myriad other ways people have crossed over in and around the Big Ditch." But how it ended up in the Travel section, I don't know. It's neat to see Masuk High School recommend Peace Like a River by Leif Enger in the American Literature category. And of course, NPR's summer reading list contains some oddities. Like Monsters, Dorothy and Thomas Hoobler's "story behind the horror story, documenting Mary Shelley's creation of Frankenstein" and The Book of Lost Books wherein Stuart Kelly chronicles "the vanished (and sometimes recovered) works from Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath and others."

I'm not one for reading lists, not because I don't enjoy scanning the shelves, but because they only serve to make my own lists exceedingly long. But I have acquired a stack of classics which I've begun tackling. (You'll recall I'm woefully ingnorant of "the Great Books.") Right now, I'm finishing Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, which has been a delightful read. (As a side note: I'm amazed at how many people actually read the book somewhere in school. Guess the nuns at St. Joseph's Academy kept Twain away from us impressionable students.) Anyway, my "beach reads" for 2006 -- or let's just say, Books I'll Try to Finish this Summer--looks something like this:

Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens

St. Thomas Aquinas, by G.K. Chesterton

Raising Lazarus, by T.L. Hines

Short Stories of Anton Chekhov

Okay, so I've not completely shunned all contemporary reading. I'll be receiving a pre-ordered, signed copy of Tony Hines' book sometime soon, which I'll dig into upon its arrival. Don't know how he feels being stuck between Chesterton and Chekhov though. Anyway, that's my list. Just don't hold me to it. Most of my "beach reads" usually become beached. So what about you? You've loaded the kids, the umbrella and the boogie boards, studied the lists and made your selections. What are you reading Summer '06?

My Metrosexual Moments

2006-06-22T05:26:00.000-07:00

It's whale sperm dermo-care for the metro-man. No, that's not me under the facial mask. But, according to a new survey, I'm dangerously close. Wikipedia defines "metrosexual" this way:

...the trait of an urban male of any sexual orientation who has a strong aesthetic sense and spends a great amount of time and money on his appearance and lifestyle.

British journalist Mark Simpson coined the term, which has embedded itself in our cultural lexicon. According to Simpson, metrosexuality is a shift in masculinity in which there is less avoidance of femininity and the “emergence of a segment of men who have embraced customs and attitudes once deemed the province of women.” Thus we've witnessed an emerging breed of stylish, sensitive, suave fellas.

It's also spawned another term: "retrosexual" -- a backlash to the mealy male; a throwback to the grungy, beer-guzzling chauvinist of yesteryear-- and has produced a turf war of sorts. Example A: ESPN's Are You a Metrosexual? quiz. It began with a discussion about metrosexual men in sports, and quickly veered into a parody of the "new breed."

Not one for "whale sperm dermo-care" and martinis, I took the test with bated breath.

1) How many times do you look in a mirror each day?

Once - when I wake up.
Twice - morning, evening.
Three times - a little mid-day peek.
Four times - I have uncooperative hair.
At least five - get off my case.

2) Can you leave the house without putting product in your hair?

No way
Yes, I do it all the time
Uhh, is a baseball hat a product?

3) Do you moisturize daily?

No -- lotion is for girls.
Occasionally, if I have a sunburn or something.
Always -- it's a necessity!

4) Not counting sneakers, how many pairs of shoes do you own?

One
Two
Three
Four
Gimme a second ... still counting ...

5) Have you ever tweezed, waxed or trimmed your eyebrows?

No, never
A couple times, for special occasions
Yes, frequently. I firmly believe eyebrows should be two distinct entities.

6) Have you ever shaved/waxed your legs, chest or back?

Yes, I do regular maintenance
Yes, a few times
No, never

7) How much do you spend on a haircut?

My buddy does it for nothing
The barber school down the street will do it for 5 bucks
$10-$20
$20-30
$40 or more

8) Your top drawer consists mostly of ...

Good old Hanes tighty-whities
Assorted boxer shorts
Designer boxer briefs

9) What's the last book you picked up?

A re-read of an old classic
A current best seller
Whatever magazine was lying around the bathroom

10) Going shopping is ...

A top priority
A chore performed before the holidays, her birthday, etc.
An activity I despise

11) Best way to spend a Friday night?

Watching the game over a large pizza and a six pack
Dinner at T.G.I.Friday's and ninth viewing of Lord of the Rings
Catch a hot musical, then drinks at a trendy martini bar

12) How would you describe your sense of style?

Scrubby frat boy
Comfy and casual
Refined and respectable
Trend-setting hipster

So I'm metrosexual in three areas, and I'm none too happy about it. Get this: My shoes, underwear and reading habits are pure metro baby! Maybe the most disturbing, however, is my reading habits.

How does reading the classics make a guy Metro?

Oh well, I'm not giving up Dickens and Twain for retro-male status. The important thing is that I don't moisturize daily (a fact that bugs my wife), I've never shaved/waxed my legs, chest or back (and don't plan to) and pizza and a six pack is still my meal of choice. Onward, men of yore, to the rugby match and pub, where we'll compare war wounds and swill the suds. Just don't ask to see my library card.